


A different kind of fire

by dbaker77



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26473789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dbaker77/pseuds/dbaker77
Summary: Caught by the paladin's, they make a horrifying discovery about her. all but one were terrified of her. She sought to escape him, he sought to make her burn.
Relationships: The Weeping Monk | Lancelot (Cursed)/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 18





	A different kind of fire

**Author's Note:**

> set in the cursed universe but not apart of the season..... just a little diversional reading

*Disclaimer – I do not own any of the characters of cursed. I do however own the unnamed woman in the story*

The weeping monk stood by Carden, listening as Carden gave orders to the brothers around him. They stood in the middle of the paladin camp, awaiting other teams of brothers to return from their missions. A horse charging out of the woods on the road caught their attention, and all turned to watch as a fellow brother neared, finally to stop steps away from father Carden. He got off his horse, his actions hurried, slightly breathless coming to bow in front of Carden before standing as bidden.   
‘what is it brother?’ Carden asked.  
‘he found them brother, ……. The ghost witch and those that travel with her.’ The eager words spilled from the brother’s lips.  
‘over there, here they come’ all in the camp turned to watch as several horses mounted by the brothers broke through the cover, escorting what appeared a woman mounted on a horse in the middle of them, dressed in dirty grey clothing, head and face covered by her hood, hands tied, sitting proudly in the saddle. As they neared the camp, the monk noticed she seemed unconcerned and almost relaxed, her eyes taking in everything. She was unarmed, a brother at the front of the retinue held her sheathed swords. Behind the red escort, were led others of her kind, bound, beaten and bloody, marked with fresh wounds slumping in their seats. They were followed by the last of their brothers sent on this errand. They rode closer, Carden and the monk watching the fae woman carefully. Carden bristled at her arrogance, the appearance that she did not seem terrified. The procession stopped steps from them, and a brother went to the side of the woman’s horse.   
‘down’ he uttered. The woman sighed, swung her left leg over the saddle, and pushed with her backside so that she half lept and slid down into a crouch before standing in front of the paladin that commanded her. Their eyes met, and he titled his head towards the group to their left. She said nothing, her face blank as she turned. None of the paladins touched her. Indeed, they did not need to, only provided an escort to the father and monk they sought to bring her too. They walked to the sides and back of her, giving her an unfettered view of the two most known and hated of the paladins. She looked at them, noting several things, unconcerned at the threat they posed. They in turn scrutinized her, taking everything in, correct in their assumptions that she was a woman. when they were close, she stopped, her attention given to father Carden. She waited as he looked her up and down, his pleasant expression marred by his distaste of her.  
‘have you nothing to say for yourself’ he asked. She merely looked at him, no hint of panic or terror in her demeanour. She would not be cowed by the likes of him.  
Carden hummed, his gaze briefly breaking hers to looking around before catching her eyes again.  
‘the very demon that has haunted me for years stands in front of me, and you have nothing to say?’ he clarified. The woman merely smiled lightly in reply. He was impressed she stood her ground unflinchingly.  
‘you face death, yet you smile’ she still said nothing. Her silence was beginning to get to him.  
‘take off her hood’ he commanded another brother.  
‘yes brother’ and with that he took off her deep silky hood. Her hair tumbled down around her, a deep earthy brown. Both Carden and the weeping monk looked at her closer. She was beautiful, however what captured both their attention was the revelation of the light ash grey weeping marks under her eyes, matching ones to the monk’s darker ones. Darker delicate swirls sat alluringly on the left side of her face, starting near the top of her hairline, down her temple to her cheek bone. It did not look garish on her, in fact it suited her, almost like those marks were meant for her. Her piercing blue eyes held Carden’s eyes, almost as if she were staring into the very depths of his soul. In drawn breaths of others around them broke the silence. Several brothers crossed themselves hurriedly praying for the protection of god from this demon. Within moments, Carden had procured a sword, and pointed it at the woman’s neck, the tip rested against her skin. Her chin tipped up slightly, allowing it, yet her eyes held Carden’s.  
‘those marks, we cleansed them all’ his anger was palpable, his teeth gritting with it.  
‘you missed a few’ her sarcasm was light. Carden’s eyes narrowed  
‘I can see that. I won’t be making that mistake again’ he reassured her hatefully  
‘if you say so’ she intoned. This infuriated Carden. The woman had absolutely no terror, no panic, still seeming to be rather unconcerned that she was near to her death. The dark figure beside him, shuffled slightly. He too seemed uncertain and confused why this woman showed nothing. Her body was not posed for action. From what he sensed, she was utterly and completely relaxed, like she was having a pleasant conversation and nothing more. This alerted him to the fact something was not right. He looked around the camp but found nothing to be alarmed about. He looked back to the woman, his lips slightly parted, watching her wearily.  
‘you will burn in the cleansing fires as you should have been’ he informed her. An amused smile lit her features, a lilting chuckle escaping her lips, carried away by the breeze. Carden’s anger deepened, his smile turning dark and dangerous. His voice only got louder, a signal for his orders to be carried out.  
‘your kin will watch you burn before they join you. Get the pyre ready’   
in moments, the woman’s second chuckle was swallowed up by the groans and cries of her kin as they were dragged off horses and led with her to a near by empty field. They were forced to their knees to watch as red paladins around them scurred around collecting firewood and a tall wooden pole. There was no time to make a cross, indeed just a simple tall thick wooden pole was erected, lashed to a flat boulder, and piles of brush and firewood arranged at the base. Carden nodded at the monk, and the monk reached out to grab the woman’s bindings. She looked at him, her eyes connecting with his before he tugged her along, leading her to the pyre. His hand circled her arm, his grip strong, firm, and sure as he pulled her up onto the boulder. She turned, her back to the pole, her eyes on his face, slight amusement within his features. He pulled her bound hands up above her head, holding them there as another brother hammered in a nail, catching the bindings in such a way she would not be able to escape her fate. All the time she ignored the other brother, her eyes connected with the monks, watching him.  
‘you have no fear’ he noted to her.  
‘I do not fear the fire’ she answered.   
‘why’ he asked. She said nothing, eventually turning her gaze to Carden who stood before the pyre. The monk and the other brothers returned to Carden’s side, all watching as Carden smiled pleasantly to the woman.  
‘let the fires of god cleanse you my child. Then you shall know peace.’  
A bigger smile graced the woman’s mouth as she watched Carden light the pyre under her feet. The kindling caught, and they watched in silence, some of the brothers with their hands pressed together in prayer, some just mesmerised by the scene, as the flames grew. The woman felt the heat and leant her head back against the pole. She heard the screams and threats of her kin. But they did not know her secret. They did not know what she was. Closing her eyes, she beckoned the hidden to her, opening herself to their whispers, luxuriating for a moment in their presence. Then she called out to them with her mind, to feed the fires so they grow. The hidden consented gleefully. The fires grew, unnaturally quickly, higher into the sky to hide the sight of the woman. Carden and the monk stood back in slight alarm, the other brother’s mutterings to god rising, crossing their chests profusely. Hidden out of sight by the fire, the others unaware the woman was not burning. The fire did not burn her, it warmed her pleasantly, the tips and flames caressing her in welcoming like old friends. The woman smiled in welcome, accepting that she was different. Fire had always been a friend to her. Her element. It lingered and caressed her, but never burnt her. Even though the wood around her burned, the rope of her bindings fell apart burnt, she never felt the burn of the flame. Neither did her clothes. She crouched on her haunches, and waited, thanking the hidden for their help. The flames of the fire died down, the hidden helping to smother the flames, effectively putting the fire out. Gasps of disbelief broke the silence around them, prayers muttered almost obscenely loud now, shock rippling through everyone seeing the woman unhurt, squatting in front of them, when clearly everything around her had burned. The woman slowly stood after thanking the hidden for helping her. And she stared at Carden.  
‘I am alive Carden. By your words, I am cleansed, your god has accepted me.’ Fury erupted out of Carden’s mouth; his body spurred into action.  
‘abomination’ he screamed, lurching towards her with a sword in his grip. It was in that moment that the weeping monk saw it. The woman’s body that was so relaxed before, was now stiffened and strung tight. She was poised to act. In a flurry of actions, the monk had quickly reached out, snagged Carden’s arm disarming him, twirled him away from the woman, drew his own sword and stood between Carden and the woman. She made no move, no twitch to indicate she was going to act. But she stayed taunt.   
‘wait father, she will attack you’ the monks husky warning reached Carden, his initial anger turning to bewilderment of the monk’s initial actions to pride seeing his son standing there to defend him. It was in that moment he decided. If he could not burn the woman, then he would give her a death far worse, far more brutal.   
‘thank you, my son. Your actions here today honour you. And so, I give you this gift. She is yours, take her, do as you see fit my son. I only require but two things from you.’  
The monk was shocked momentarily; however, he gave a nod to Carden to go on.  
‘make her suffer before she dies by your hand’ the monk relaxed momentarily. He was asked to use his skills. This he could do. If she could not be killed by fire, he would make sure she met her death by his blade. A motion of Carden’s hands had brother reaching to grab the woman. She made no move to hurt or escape them. Merely relaxed and assented to their demands. She was led off the now burnt pyre, her hands re bound in front of her and led away deep into the camp to the monk’s tent.   
‘kill them all’ cardan’s words resonated out, brothers taking the wounded fae to the other side of the camp and murdering them. They tossed their dead bodies into a pile and lit the pile, purifying it by fire.   
With a nod to Carden, the monk sheathed his sword and made his was to his tent. He was curious about the woman. She was graced with the same marks as him, although lighter, she was impervious to fire. Yet he sensed she was very much like him in so many ways. Her scent was delectable and fought to cloud his mind. He entered his tent, nodding to his brothers who returned the action and left, leaving the monk to his work. The monk merely looked at the woman, scrutinising her, extending his talents to catalogue various things about her. Her mind again called out to the hidden, seeking aid. They gave it willingly. Her scent seemed to reach out to him, surround him, clouding his mind and draw him in. never having felt this before, the monk had no Defense against it. Was caught so unaware by it, that he was unable to mount a Defense. Within moments he was caught, had no desire to fight, could not remember who he was, or what he was doing there. His startling blue eyes were shadowed, almost subdued. The woman’s casual steps brought her to him, and she lifted her hands in front of her, her eyes meeting his. Without saying a word, the monk retrieved a knife off his belt, and cut her bindings. She was free, he was bewitched but she did not flee. She watched as he returned his knife to his belt. Her left hand touched the side of his face, her touch light and lingering. Her thumb caressed the same markings that adorned the skin below her eyes. She said nothing looking deep into his eyes, her face getting closer. Her other hand met the skin of his neck just above his shoulder, curling around to cup the back of his neck. Her body aligned with his, pressing against him, as her lips touched his. He thought of nothing, his hands rising to cup the backs of her shoulders, sliding to lightly hold the sides of her arms. His lips moved with hers, nothing more, nothing less. She nipped his bottom lip hard. It was that moment her spell was completely shattered. The weeping monk had endured gut wrenching pain before. Whether by another hand or by his own. He was no stranger to it. Even used pain. She had sought to shame him, to control him. She knew not what she had done, and, in that moment, he would seek to teach her using the very methods she thought to use on him. His hands gripped her upper arms hard, stopping her from kissing him and eliciting a sharp in drawn breath. Pulling her back slightly, he saw the first signs of panic in her eyes, a carnal smirk starting to grace his lips.   
‘you shouldn’t play with fire’ he huskily cautioned her. He yanked her to him, one of his hands driving up in her hair to grip it at the base of her skull. He was not letting her move much. His other hand gripped her hip, pushing her into the makeshift altar, pinning her there with his hips. His hand on her hip left to grab her chin, tilting her face right up to his.  
‘you will only get burnt’ his mouth crashed down hard on her open lips. His tongue invaded her mouth, testing, tasting, taking. Her hands that were sandwiched between them moved, each clinging to his shoulders as he kissed her ruthlessly. Pushing at her further, her backside slid slightly onto the alter, forcing everything behind her to crash to the ground. The monk thrust his leg between hers, parting them wider and standing in the space they provided. He leant her back slightly as he ravaged her, pulling her groin towards him, tilting her. He thrust against her, his arousal at taking her so thoroughly and ruthlessly turning him on. She was not fighting him. Would not be fighting him anytime soon as he kept up the onslaught to her senses. He did not want to give her time for her mind to clear and adjust. His lips left her mouth, male satisfaction filling him as she eager sucked in breath. Her panting filled the room, as his lips, tongue and teeth explored the skin beneath her ear, trailing down her neck. He sucked on the warm skin in the crook of her shoulder, before continuing around to the collar bone. The sound of her moan broke out of her throat and only seemed to inflame the monk more. His hand cradled her lower back as he bent her further over his arm. His lips and tongue tasted the small patch of skin her shirt had split and revealed, causing her to whimper. Her leg crept up his thigh, climbing to settle high around his hip, her foot tramping him, pulling him in closer. She rocked against him, seeking deeper friction against the maddening throbbing of the cleft between her thighs. She was lost to him now; in a dark erotic haze her enemy had created. His tongue traced up her neck, and kissing her chin, he kissed her hard again. Her arms went around his neck, holding him to her. Finally, he pulled back, holding her in place in front of him, not allowing her to continue their administrations. As he waited and held her captive, her mind cleared, her leg dropped down, as clarity came to her senses and with a gasp her eyes sought his. Her hands settled against his chest, trying but unsuccessfully trying to push him away for a few moments. she calmed, realising her gesture was futile. However, a deep dark satisfaction travelled through the monk, and a very carnal satisfied grin marred his face. His quarry now showed true fear. Indeed, her eyes were filled with her fear. He watched her, waiting. Even though she felt fear at his hands, she felt resigned that she was not the predator but the prey. They assessed each other for a long time, sizing each other up. Then unexpectedly, he yanked her up, letting go except for the one hand that roughly and firmly gripped her right upper arm. He dragged her, both silently out of the tent and towards the forest around the back. All brothers about, seeing the monk with his quarry, hurried away or feigned knowledge of seeing him. They did not want to tangle with their brother, even to them, he was lethal, with a darkness that scared them. And so, they stayed away, turning a blind eye to what he was doing. He roughly pulled her into the forest, before stopping abruptly. Swinging her around, he grabbed her other upper arm, yanking her hard, making her stumble into his body. She looked up at him, her mouth open, ready to abuse him. Instead his mouth slammed down on hers again, only this time with a hunger and passion that inflamed her quickly. His ruthlessly cruel mouth took from her, leaving her bare and feeling bereft, driving whimpers through her throat. Ripping his mouth from hers, his head dipped to catch her eyes and attention.   
‘run. Don’t look back’ she looked at him in confusion. He was letting her go? What was going? What had she missed? His eyes narrowed on her and she took some stumbling steps back, breaking his weakened hold.  
‘why’ she questioned him. His growl and darkening countenance scared her, his dark tone answered her  
‘run’ she did, she turned and ran away from the camp, as fast as she could. She looked quickly behind her, but he was not following, merely watching as the forest swallowed her up, his gaze lingering on where she finally disappeared.


End file.
